Clandestine Touch
by paynesgrey
Summary: Echo was right; Claire needed someone to take care of her too. Claire x Echo. Femslash. One-shot.


Clandestine Touch

Adelle leaned back in her chair and gave Dr. Claire Saunders a light smile. "You surprise me."

Claire doubted that was true. "Can it be done or not?" she asked. She was almost shaking. She was good at composing herself, and the ache under her scars didn't feel so raw when the blood rushed to her cheeks.

Adelle sighed. "Of course, I just never thought you'd request such a thing. But since you'll be paying, I cannot deny it."

She stared at Adelle; the doctor hoped she intimidated her a little. It was probably futile.

"No one must know it's me," Claire said.

Adelle nodded. "Absolutely." She cocked her head as if she was trying to figure her out. Claire stood rigidly before her, hands fisted at her sides. Adelle thought she knew everything worth knowing about Claire.

Dr. Saunders wanted to prove her wrong.

--

Echo walked into her office like a dream. "You wanted to see me?"

Claire turned around from her paperwork and stood up with a nervous smile. She drew the window shades and walked over to the hospital bed in the middle of the room. She smiled forcefully at Echo. "Yes." She directed her hand to the bed, but before Echo could lie there like she always had before, Claire grabbed her arm to stop her.

"No, the bed is for me. I'll tell you what to do."

Echo nodded, but her look was as vacant as usual. Claire felt disappointed. She had no business condemning the slips of morality of this place with Actives just like Echo. She was no more innocent than Adelle herself. This meeting now would only prove that.

Claire removed her jacket. Echo watched. The rest of the doctor's clothes pooled around her feet on the floor, and she moved onto the bed.

Echo stared curiously at her. Claire held out her hand with an inviting smile. "Come here, Echo."

The woman complied, and Dr. Claire Saunders held her head against her bare breast. She closed her eyes and took in the still woman's warmth and nearness.

She reluctantly pulled apart and met Echo's eyes. Claire took her hand and rested Echo's palm to her scarred cheek. "Touch me."

Slowly, Echo ran her fingers over Claire's face. The doctor let go of a shaky breath.

--

The softest fingers she'd ever felt ran across the jagged lines of her face. Smooth skin to raw; flawless flesh against ferocious. Her fingers grazed her lips, and Claire moved to kiss them. Echo's movements traveled lightly and slowly, burning a trail on every spot she touched.

Her hands trailed a line down her jaw, and Claire arched her neck. She leaned back, and Echo's hands were on her shoulders, over her chest, and palmed on the swell of her breast. Claire almost forgot she had to breathe. She sighed and remained still. She did not join Echo or even help her along.

She feared if she interfered her touches would lose their energy. They wouldn't feel so willing. No one else wanted her to touch her like this. No one else stepped forward to caress the scarred creature she'd become.

Claire choked out a sob, and Echo paused. "Are you sad?" she asked. Claire shook her head quickly. She bowed her head and rested the top against Echo's chest. On reflex, the girl wrapped her arm around her in an embrace.

"It's okay," she said, and she let Claire cry. Echo continued to smooth her hands over her, each motion feeling more tender and motherly than the next.

Claire felt her massage Echo back and smooth the tense knots in her upper arms. Her hands grazed the small of her back, settling in the dip above her bottom. Then, her hands moved around her figure more absently, tracing over the angles and grooves of her body and reaching a path to her most concentrated heat.

Claire leaned back from Echo's embrace and stared at the ceiling through drying tears. Hands dipped below, cupping her most sensitive flesh and then sliding a tender path inside. She bit her fist and held back the whine. Deeper and softer, she felt folded inside and out. She opened her eyes, and Echo was watching her, gauging her to see if she was doing everything right as planned.

Echo's innocence and unknowing rattled her. What was she doing? Fingers pumped and pushed deeper within her, and her body shook from burgeoning sensation. Wet and slick, her guilt lathered over Echo's dutiful fingers. With one more slip inside, and Claire thought she might break in half.

Claire tensed and cried out in a half-sob. She smiled weakly from the thrill, and Echo pulled back, satisfied to produce such a reaction. She pulled back her hands, still showing evidence of Claire's shame and desire, and she relaxed them at her side.

"You look happy," Echo finally said, and Claire suddenly felt the chill from the room against her body. She nodded and leaned over to recover her clothes.

"Yes," Claire said, pushing her glasses back to their normal place on the bridge of her nose. "Thank you."

Echo beamed brighter to Claire's gratitude, and after the doctor was completely clothed, she led Echo to the sink in her office. "Come on; let's get you cleaned up for the Treatment."

Echo paused from the key word, and she nodded with another smile. Dutifully, she followed Claire over to the sink.

When Echo left her office, she smelled like corporate soap – fake floral with just a hint of bitter lemons.

--

Claire was sitting in Adelle's office, and the woman stared at her as Claire watched Echo return back to the living areas after her recent Treatment.

"If the real personality of Echo only knew you," Adelle said, but she didn't reveal her closing thoughts. She didn't need to; Claire knew what she meant.

She turned to Adelle with a hard frown. "If _you_ only knew the real me."

Adelle raised a single eyebrow. "And you're saying you know yourself as well as I do?"

Claire didn't like her words. She didn't want to know the truth locked inside them. The residual touch of Echo's hand against her skin reminded her of better moments where few words were spoken and motivations were left undefined. Claire let Adelle's observations fade into recesses of her mind.

True feelings were stronger anyway without the complexity of language.

End


End file.
